


Clannish

by Jougetsu



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Background Stannis Baratheon/Davos Seaworth - Freeform, Gen, M/M, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-14
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-08 04:13:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,984
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13450305
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jougetsu/pseuds/Jougetsu
Summary: Renly Baratheon will not be sent away to Storm's End, even if he has to petition the king himself.





	Clannish

**Author's Note:**

  * For [The_Plaid_Slytherin](https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Plaid_Slytherin/gifts).



“You are requested in your solar for a private audience, Your Majesty.” 

Robert was rarely disturbed after the evening meal, the only company that came to his door was of the requested variety at that hour. Even Cersei did not visit his chambers unbidden, much as he sometimes wished otherwise. “Tell them it can wait until tomorrow. I am sick of Small Council blather.”

“It is Master Renly, Your Majesty,” his page hesitated. “Shall I turn him away?” 

At that Robert frowned. True he had a headache from the wine served at midday and had been in ill humor all day to the point where even John Arryn discreetly brought it up after the rest of the Small Council had been dismissed. “No, no, of course not. Send him in.” 

Perhaps little Renly would cheer him up with some amusing tale or silly joke. Children seemed inclined to talk just as much as any courtier though they were usually more amusing. 

When Renly strode in Robert was surprised to see him attired in exceedingly formal wear. His little brother was every inch a Baratheon with his curly head held high clad in a yellow silk tunic that had little stags prancing in black thread. 

“What ho, Renly!” Robert chuckled. “Pray, what is this about?” 

“Sire, I have come to ask a private audience with you,” Renly said slowly, hands tucked behind his back. “Your Majesty.” 

The chuckle grew into a hearty laugh. Whatever Renly was playing at it was cute enough. Robert wondered who coached his pretty words. “Have you now? What will you ask of the King of Westeros? A new pony? A training sword? A wee bow with a quiver of arrows?” 

“I have one question.” Renly’s lip swelled up from where he’d been biting it, but the Baratheon blood held strong and he did not avert his gaze for a moment. Much more honest than those sly little cousins of his wife’s family who’d overrun King’s landing as pages and squires and newly minted young knights. Cats in the cream each one of them. 

“And what is that?” 

“Why do you hate me?” A childish lisp crept into his speech and Renly’s voice cracked on the last word. 

Robert could scarcely credit what he was hearing, but sure enough Renly’s eyes were glassy with tears and his face pale in terror. 

“Hate you? Hate you? Who in the world told you that?” Robert could stand it no longer and lifted Renly into his arms, Renly who was lighter than most his age after a year of siege. “Was it the Lannisters? Or Stannis-”

“No! But Stannis must hate me too,” Renly openly sobbed now, arms around Robert’s neck. “You’re sending me to Storm’s End all alone because you both must hate me! And Stannis is so angry! Angrier than he’s ever been!” 

Stannis and Robert had not agreed about the passing of Storm’s End onto Renly to put it mildly. While Stannis had not railed or whined it did not escape Robert that a cold fury took up residence inside his brother over the matter. Which hadn’t troubled him in the least as a very hot fury had been Robert’s over Stannis’ inability to capture the last Targaryens at Dragonstone. But he did not think Stannis capable of blaming Renly for Robert’s division of estates. Stannis generally had more sense than that. 

“Did Stannis say he hates you?” Robert rubbed Renly’s back to soothe the sobs that wracked his small frame. If the lad cried any harder Robert feared he might crack a rib. 

“N-noooo,” Renly hiccuped and rubbed his eyes with a fist. “But he hasn’t talked to me all week - not even to tell me to attend to my lessons! And Stannis always tells me to attend my lessons!” 

“Stannis and I had a big quarrel these past weeks. He’s very very angry with me and I’m very very angry with him,” Robert gentled his tone and guiltily thought he had never spoken to Stannis so softly in their childhood. They’d been too close in age for Robert to really consider gentleness with him. “Stannis is probably avoiding you so he does not say something harsh that he will regret. I’m sure he does not hate you.” Though he may well hate me, Robert thought sardonically. 

“But you must hate me,” Renly insisted. “Because you’re sending me back to Storm’s End. And there’s no war or anything!” 

“But it’s for your own good,” Robert felt the wince on his own face deepening. Surely it was best for Renly. Jon Arryn had made the case so ardently Robert had not doubted it for a moment. Yet here was doubt enough sitting on his lap awash with sorrow. 

“How?” Red-faced and tear-stained Renly crinkled his nose. Robert thought there was something familiar in the expression though he could not recall seeing it on Renly before. “How is it good? Stannis and Ser Davos and you will all be here and I will be alone.” 

The Seven help him this was going worse than the coronation preparations had gone. “Maester Cressen will go with you.”

At that Renly’s lip wibbled, “But then Stannis won’t be able to see Maester Cressen. And I’ll still be lonely.” 

It then occurred to Robert that he and his brothers might view the maester rather differently. While Cressen had a been a fixture in their childhood once Robert left for the Vale he had not thought much about the man. Yet the way Renly, and now that he considered it Stannis, spoke of Cressen seemed to indicate they viewed him more as an uncle rather than a servant of the house. “You think a great deal of Stannis?” 

Renly stopped crying to give Robert the most withering stare a Baratheon ever gave which made it likelier it was from the Estermont side. “Of course! Stannis is the bravest, fiercest, smartest lord in all the Seven Kingdoms!”

Despite himself Robert laughed, “Oh and what about me?” 

Another cutting Estermont glare as though Robert were the six year old child, “You’re the king, not a lord. It’s different.” 

“True enough!” Robert grinned. Though he had to wonder why Renly idolized their aloof brother. Proximity wasn’t everything and Stannis was abysmal with children, abysmal with anyone really. How that Onion Knight tolerated working under him was a mystery. “So your petition is to stay at King’s Landing and not go to Storm’s End?” 

“Yeth,” Renly hid his face in Robert’s tunic. “Don’t make me go.” 

Damn Jon Arryn and his pretty reasons, there had a been a host of them but Robert couldn’t recall a single one with Renly here with him. Cersei wouldn’t like it, she didn’t care for either of his brothers, but there were plenty of Lannisters in the Red Keep. The king ought to have his kin close by, the clan was depleted as is. 

“I suppose we can consider the petition,” Robert patted Renly on the head. “We need to make sure you’re attending to your lessons. And soon you’ll be big enough to learn swordsmanship.” 

Like a good stag Renly perked up at that, “I already have a dagger. So I can practice with that.” 

“You do?” 

“Yes, Stannis gave it to me. I can show it to you later,” Renly’s sea-green eyes were dry now, thank the Seven. “It stabs very well.” 

“And how do you know that?” Robert was fairly certain Renly had never been taken on a hunt. He dearly hoped Renly was not one of those unpleasant children who tortured simple creatures. 

“Oh, I stabbed a bad soldier,” Renly said simply. “He bled lots and lots.” 

“A bad soldier? What did the bad soldier do?” There were very few times in Robert Baratheon’s life that he wildly needed to know something and at the same time absolutely did not want to know it at all. The sensation sat uncomfortable in his gut. 

Renly hooked his index finger on his bottom lip and frowned at the memory. “Stannis and Maester Cressen were very sick one night so I was in my room by myself. I couldn’t sleep because I was sick in my tummy, too. It’s a good thing I was a little sick because I was awake when the bad soldier came in.” 

A chill dread ran up Robert’s veins and his heart missed a step. “And then?” 

“I pretended to be asleep,” Renly said. “And the bad soldier grabbed me, but I had my dagger under my pillow like Stannis told me to. So I stabbed him in the hand and ran.” 

“What happened to the bad soldier?” 

If he wasn’t already dead Robert was going to hunt him down and eviscerate him. Then send his relations over to the justice of Tywin Lannister. It would really be for the best if the man was burning in the seven hells because kings weren’t supposed to go around murdering people after the war’s over with. 

“Stannis killed him,” Renly replied, almost cheerfully as the thought clearly gave him comfort. 

“That night?”

“No, he was still too sick,” Renly shook his black curls. “It was the next morning in the courtyard. Stannis asked the bad soldier to give his reasons. But he didn’t say an’thing. Then Stannis said if anyone else wanted to leave Baratheon service they should go, but they didn’t. Then he said they should diddle themselves if they didn’t want to lose their pricks. Then he cut off the bad soldier’s head.” 

Leave it to Stannis to be as particular about executions as a Northman though Robert knew he would have done no less. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, “I’m glad Stannis was there to protect you.” 

Small wonder Renly hadn’t wanted to be separated. Stannis wasn’t merely a fellow accident of blood, but his own avenging knight. 

“So I don’t have to go back to Storm’s End, right?” Renly asked. 

Back to a place of hunger and bad soldiers with no Stannis or Robert to save him. 

“No, no, only to visit so that the smallfolk see their little lord once in a while,” Robert assured him. “And Stannis or I will go with you when you visit.” 

“Oh good,” Renly rested his head against Robert’s chest. All the nervousness drained out of him had the lad quiet. Never before had Robert regretted being sent to the Vale, but now he knew what he had missed out on. The nearly feral protectiveness of the Starks siblings no longer seemed alien to him.

“I like you, Robert,” Renly said as if he had just made up his mind. And he probably had all things considered. “I’m glad I’m staying so I can see you lots, too. I don’t think anyone should be sent away.” 

“You’ll attend to your lessons?” Robert teased, quiet and content. 

Renly stuck out his tongue, “Only Stannis can tell me that. You can tell me something else.” 

“Then I shall nag you about your swordsmanship,” said Robert. “We’ll start talking to the arms masters tomorrow about getting you suitable practice with your dagger. By your next nameday you should be big enough for a light practice sword.” 

“Ser Davos is going to teach me sailing,” Renly said yawning. “That’s another reason why I have to stay here. So you’re not allowed to change your mind and send me away.” 

“You have the king’s word that you’ll not be sent away except if there is war,” Robert vowed. “But in that case you’ll be sure to have Stannis with you just like last year.” 

If Renly had been a Lannister he might have asked for his boon in writing or wheedled a present or two, surely. But he wasn’t, he was Robert’s own blood, and he fell asleep right there as if Robert had never gone to the Vale to become a stranger. 

Stannis would be good deal more difficult to win over. 

In theory Robert could simply announce Renly’s staying at the next Small Council meeting. He wouldn’t have to explain himself, merely stating that it was in the Crown’s best interest to keep the last Baratheons together. He’d been all for it until the next morning when instinct informed him that if he were to ever mend the rift with Stannis he ought discuss family matters with him first. 

Why was it that the voice of reason sounded altogether too much like Ned Stark? 

Summoning Stannis would be the wrong move, serving to emphasize Robert’s newfound royal authority. So he went to Stannis’ chambers early that morning, without announcement or ceremony. 

“Enter,” Stannis called out when he heard the knocking. “Ser Davos, have you-” 

“It’s not Seaworth,” Robert said suddenly feeling foolish and regretting having come. 

Stannis turned in his desk chair and stood suddenly, “Robert, I did not realize-” 

“Yes, I know,” he swallowed back pride and pushed ahead. “I’ve come to a decision about Renly and I wanted to speak with you about it before declaring it at the council.” 

Robert had always thought of Stannis as the stony faced, stony hearted one in the family. But looking at him now Robert could see an entire range of expression, a twitch of the lip that would be a scowl on others, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple as he gulped down his discomfort, the slight flair of his nostrils that spoke of rage - his brother simply spoke more without words than with them and that was a revelation. 

“I was under the impression you had agreed with Lord Arryn yesterday, you said as much,” Stannis murmured as though it would keep him from spitting the words in Robert’s face. 

“Yes, well, I’ve rather had a change of heart,” Robert said. 

“And what brought this about?” Stannis jaw tightened. “If I am allowed to question the king’s judgment.”

Where to begin? Where to end? This was worse than negotiating with Tywin Lannister. Would that the Stranger put Robert out of his misery! 

Robert finally settled on, “Renly came to plead on his own behalf.”

Suspicion flitted across Stannis’ face, “And that was it?” 

“He did not want to go and assumed the two of us hated him,” said Robert. “He’s really very concerned you haven’t scolded him about his lessons. He believes you despise him.”

Was that fury or sorrow in his brother’s brow?

“Do you share that belief?” 

“I admit I thought you might resent Renly over Storm’s End’s passing to him,” Robert said. “Until I heard the story of the ‘bad soldier’ and the justice you dispensed. Tell me truthfully, Stannis, was it treason or perversion?” 

“Maester Cressen and I have never come to a definite conclusion,” Stannis’ fists unclenched and he relaxed incrementally. “At that point most of the food in the keep was rotted to some degree. If it was deliberate poisoning I’d assume it was a turncloak, but opportunism points more to perversion. We were never sure. I had been hesitant to give a dagger to such a young child, but I am never more grateful that I did.” 

“It’s not surprising he said nothing in his own defense,” Robert replied. “He couldn’t be sure what would anger Lord Stannis Baratheon less - to admit to attempted kidnapping or to admit to attempted rape.” 

“As you can imagine I was hardly inclined to give any quarter for either answer,” Stannis almost smiled though his brow stayed furrowed. “Only illness kept me from castrating the man the moment Renly came running. All thoughts of justice and fairness quite left my head.”

Maybe he and Stannis were more alike than he knew. Perhaps they always had been or perhaps they’d grown into it.

“You’re a fairer man than I,” said Robert. “I’d have chopped off the little head before the larger one without question.” 

“Yes, well I thought that might be driving home the point a little too hard,” Stannis’ custom dry humor returned. “Besides, I was still angry at myself for leaving Renly alone that night. From the beginning of the siege Maester Cressen, Renly, and I stayed in Mother and Father’s old chambers for safety’s sake. But I had been so afraid my illness might have been a wasting fever I was terrified Renly would perish if he caught it that I kept away.” 

“You are not responsible for the crimes of others,” Robert stepped forward to clap his brother on the shoulder. “By the Seven, you held Storm’s End for a year and kept protected Renly. I never thanked you for it.”

“No, you never did.” Could hurt be intertwined with amusement? If so then that was the very essence of Stannis’ tone if Robert was deciphering it correctly.

“Thank you, Stannis.” The words made Robert’s chest lift with a lightness, free of some burden he hadn’t known he’d been carrying. “You are a true Baratheon. We are different and we will always quarrel, but I have never been ashamed of you. One day we may even find that we like each other.” 

Stannis’ left eyebrow arched heavenward. “Will wonders never cease?” 

Robert grinned, he couldn’t help himself and he didn’t want to anyway. 

“My lord - Your Majesty!” The Onion Knight entered the chambers with a familiarity that wasn’t missed by Robert, though he was not entirely sure what to make of it. “I’ll take my leave, of course.” 

“No, no, no,” laughed Robert. “I’m the one who’s leaving. You stay, Onion Knight. Stannis has some good news for you. Regarding which, I’ll be expecting reports on Renly’s sailing progress starting next month.”

The flabbergasted expression on the other man’s face was worth it, but so too was the unbridled joy. “Yes, Your Majesty! It would be my honor.”

Perhaps it was not too late for Robert to learn to be clannish. After all he had two brothers to teach him.


End file.
